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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27468337">The W Project</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/QrowBlaq/pseuds/QrowBlaq'>QrowBlaq</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Child Abuse, Death, F/M, Human Experimentation, Retelling, Sexual Content</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:53:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,338</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27468337</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/QrowBlaq/pseuds/QrowBlaq</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A retelling of the events of Resident evil. Focuses  mainly on the two surviving Wesker children.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Albert Wesker &amp; Alex Wesker, Albert Wesker/Alex Wesker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sun is bright in the summer sky. Light wind rustles the leaves. A girl plays on the swing outside a country house. Some loose chickens cluck about the yard. The young child swings her ragdoll on the swing. <br/>A woman is in the kitchen seen from the swings though the window. Busy with cooking lunch. Long skirt sweeps the floor. Blouse stuck to her back from the heat. Hair neatly tucked under a shawl, tied under the chin. Her back is to the window. The sound of the swing rope creaking coming in though the open window. She put the knife down, vegetables sliced, and turns to the open door. Chickens run around the yard. The dog is asleep at its house, chained down to not run away. All is peaceful. The woman goes outside. Calls out. <br/>“Sasha, idy sjuda!” <br/>She walks around the house to the tree. The swing is swinging, the doll is on the ground. There is no sign of the girl.</p><p> </p><p>A small, quiet English town. Children playing outside in the playground. A boy kicks the ball too close to the street. He runs to get it back. Father is reading a newspaper on the bench. Glances at the boy running, flips the page. A minute passes. There is a scream. The next thing he sees is a black car driving away from the scene at full speed. The boy is gone. <br/> Once in a while a child goes missing. Nobody knows where or how. Sometimes people claim to have seen a man carrying a child. Sometimes it’s a black car. Sometimes they just vanish like something lifted them up into the sky. Posters with their faces, on the bill boards, on cartons of milk. But there are too many across the world. Different nations, different families. Lost. Never to be seen again. Forgotten by the families that once searched for them. Dead to the world. </p><p>She opens her eyes. The room is white, clean. A bed, a table, a case for books. Nothing unnecessary. Outside the door they are waiting. The tall man in a suit. <br/>“Alex” he calls her. <br/>The name feels somehow foreign. She know it is her name, yet I doesn’t feel entirely hers. The man places a hand on her shoulder. Escorts her. There are others like him, waiting. So many doors, so many little girls. One by one they come. Same white clothes. Same as hers. <br/>The stair splits the grand hall. Girls come from the left. Boys on the right. She glances over her shoulder. The first of the boys are starting to come down.  The dining hall of the orphanage is split into two. The massive room with tall gothic ceiling and stained glass window. Luxurious yet cold and empty. Intimidating. The chandeliers light up the room casting shadows on the floor. Many tables combined into one long line. One on the left and one on the right. Girls sit separate from the boys. <br/>The man in the suit pull back the chair for her to sit. <br/>“Thank you” she says, with no hint of an accent.<br/>The men don’t do it for the boys. Just the girls. They wear the same white as everyone. The men and women in black suits that follow them around everywhere stick out in the white mass of children. The waiters come with food. Everyone is served the same thing at the same time. She eats slowly, quietly. One of the boys makes a slurping sound. The man biding him places his hand on the boy shoulder, gets him up, and takes him away. The boy a little rounder than the other kids. The seat remains empty for the remainder of breakfast. A reminder. <br/>In class they are together, but still divided. Boys on side, girls on the other. The men in suits don’t come to class. They wait outside or perhaps not. The teachers come in one by one until lunch time. Nobody talks in class. Everybody listens. Takes notes. Reads. She likes learning new things. Things she wouldn’t have learned otherwise. She is lucky to be here. They are all. They should be thankful for this privilege. To him.<br/>The fat boy didn’t return to class. He wasn’t at lunch either. It was when they removed his seat, she knew he won’t be back. </p><p>The boat lands on the sandy shore of the island. The local’s stare in awe and surprise. Men in dark suits and lab coats disembark on the pier. One of them holds out his hand for a woman. Short blond hair slicked back. Lips bright red. A dark brown coat over the white suit. Heels clicking on the wooden pier. Locals whisper among themselves. <br/>Something in the breeze feels strange. She pauses for a moment. Greyish blue eyes looking around the similarly colored water and the sand on the beach. The cliffs. Seagulls cry out. There is a moment of familiarity. A feeling that this place is familiar. Then it passes. <br/>They walk up to the town. The people are scared, looking at them with wide eyes.  <br/>“Ignorant peasants” she thinks. <br/>They pass a house with a tree. An old swing hangs on the branch of the now dead tree. An old woman with a long black skirt and a black shawl come to look at the commotion. Her face wrinkly. She gives the place a brief glance and turns away. Everything is old, decaying. Filthy. Disgusting.  <br/>No body notices. No one remembers. The long lost daughter has returned to the home she does not remember. To the one who no longer recognizes her. The truth of this is lost. Forgotten. Zabytij.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She walks on the sandy beach of the island. With the sandy dunes and the grey water of the Baltic one could believe they were all alone. The town is hidden is hidden from view. The grey sky merges with grey water in the distance. She feels something she cannot fully understand.  It can’t be loneliness, she has always been alone. And yet gazing at the seemingly infinite sea merging with the sky one cannot help but feel alone. Loneliness is something she is familiar with.</p><p> </p><p>The orphanage is mostly quiet at night. Yet Alex lays awake in her bed. Something has been bothering her. Something she know she should just ignore. There are less of them now. The tables have become shorter as there are less children.  Seven from her class as far as she can tell. Adoption is what they tell them. She doesn’t believe. Too many, too fast. They weren’t the best, but they behaved. They weren’t like those who lagged behind and got punished. <br/>At night she could hear footsteps in the halls. Hushed voices. Doors opening. The children were not allowed outside their rooms past 9 PM. She looks out the window. There is a car outside but no other lights. Men in suits are carrying something out. One holding one end and the other man holding the back. It’s a cocoon of black. They put it in the trunk of the car. Soon they are back with another. It doesn’t concern her. Should not concern her. She pulls away and goes back to bed. It would not be good to get seen. <br/>However it still troubles her. They were told to be the best at everything. To view the others as nothing but competition. Nothing less than perfection will do. She did her best. After all that was why they were all here. Wasn’t it? To get adopted by the richest and most powerful families. Given the chances at a life that their parents would have never been able to give. Parents that abandoned them. Never tried to get in touch. Never cared enough to get touch.  So how could so many average kids get adopted? It made no sense to her. But questioning the adults would undoubtedly lead to punishment. So she didn’t. <br/>It was later in the day when something happened that made her reconsider. She was reading in her room. When she looked up from her book she saw a girl in her room. It was forbidden to enter the room of others. The girl had long black hair and look like she was of Asian descent. <br/>“Please, you have to help me.” She said. <br/>Alex said nothing, confused by this girl that should not be there. They were in different classes. She had seen her but never spoken to her before. Didn’t even know her name. <br/>“You shouldn’t be here.” Are the first words she speaks. <br/>“Please. I know I’ll be next. They’re going to take me away. “ <br/>Alex isn’t sure what to say or do. <br/>A woman in a black suit enters the room. <br/>“Yuki!” she calls” You know it’s rude to enter other peoples rooms uninvited.” She puts a hand on her shoulder. <br/>Firm grip. Lifts the girl up. She is crying as the woman leads her out. <br/>“Apologize” the woman says before leaving. <br/>“I’m sorry.” She says sobbing. <br/>The door closes. Alex tries to read but she can’t. the word are too blurry. It’s only when a drop lands on the page that she realizes why. <br/>She lays in her bed listening. Still uncertain about why she is doing this. They come. She hears them open a door. Soon in opens again. She waits they pass her room. Alex gets up. They get further away. She opens the door, follows. The two tall figures are holding something white.  She stays close to the ground where it’s dark. Out of sight of the men. The stairs creak. They are going down. She waits. Shoes click on the tiles at the entrance hall. She goes down stairs, avoiding the creaking ones. The rail block her. She hears the door open. It’s in a faraway hallway. The children are not allowed in there. Unless they get sick. The medical bay is there along with many other rooms. She walks on the soft carpet making no sound. Past so many doors. There is an opening in the wall, stairs go down. Alex takes a step. Hands on the wall. The stairs turn at a platform. She can’t see beyond it.  She peeks around the corner. The stair ends at some white tiles and what seems to be a brightly lit room.<br/>There are curtains, like in a hospital. She dives behind the closest one. Not looking around much. Too afraid to be here. Just a look. Just to see that it’s not really bad. There was nothing going on. There is a body on the cold metal table. The skin is a greyish color with black veins. Alex knew him. Some boy she used to be in class with, before she got moved to the more advanced class for doing well. They worked on few school projects. <br/>Another curtain. Another familiar face. Someone from class. Someone she had passed in the hall every day. Then on the left side was Yuki. She wasn’t grey like the rest of them. She looked like she was asleep. Alex whispered. Calling her name. Not sure why. Still unsure of why she was here. It didn’t feel real. Like a bad dream. This could not be real.<br/>“Yuki” she call the girl. <br/>She doesn’t seem to respond. Alex feels more and more certain she needs to leave. Suddenly Yuki grabs her wrist. The girl sits up and her eyes are open but they are black and oozing black liquid. She tries to pull away but the grip on her is too strong. Alex screams. <br/>There are voices. Somebody is running. But Alex doesn’t really hear it. She needs to escape. But she can’t. Yuki falls back on the table her grip loosens. But it’s too late. There are men in white lab coats and black suits pulling aside the curtains. Alex is frozen in place. Unable to move. Unable to speak. The people are talking but she doesn’t listen. In her mind she is running back to her room. Hiding in her bed. But in reality her body is paralyzed in place.<br/>“How did?”<br/>“We must dispose of her.” <br/>“Wait! She’s one of the chosen candidates” <br/>“Leave her.” <br/>“Sir?!” <br/>“Proceed with the next phase.” <br/>“What about the girl?” </p><p>She wakes in her room. Body feeling heavy. Her head hurts. Her arm hurts. In IV inserted into her arm. They say it was bad case of the flue. She had a fever for days. Alex doesn’t remember. She vaguely recalls the strange room downstairs. A dream they tell her. She wants to believe it. They tell her to pack up her things. The orphanage is closing for renovations. Everybody else has been moved out already. She is the only one left. <br/>Holding her suitcase, on the grand stair case, she waits for the car to take her away. Lost in her thoughts about the strange dream she had. There is a hand on her shoulder but it not the usual one. Behind her stands a man she had seen in paintings around the orphanage. The one who made all this possible. The one they owe their lives to. But is not the only time she had seen him. He looks old. Long fingers grip her shoulder tightly. He smiles without kindness. An image flashes. The hidden room. He is wearing a lab coat. He places his hand on her shoulder and smiles. Alex shivers. The car outside signals for her. The hand is gone. She doesn’t back. </p><p> </p><p>She had been scared then.  She had been scared many times in her life. She had thought she was alone. That she knew what it meant. Staring at the sea, she felt more scared and alone then she had ever felt in her life. The wind is picking up. A storm threatens to break on the island. She remains there standing. Tears streaming down her face. The new had come hours ago. Raccoon city is no more. He is no more. <br/>The first drops of rain hit the sand. They are looking for her. She knows. Doesn’t care. The rain falls harder, mixing with her tears. She falls, knees hitting the wet sand, and screams at the raging sea. But the wind and waves swallow it up. Somebody approaches. Somebody hold an umbrella over her head. <br/>“Master ,Alex.” <br/>She doesn’t respond. In her mind she miles away. In a city that no longer exists. In the arms of a man who no longer lives.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The wind blows trough the empty windows. Glass cracks under her feet. Walls black with fire. The orphanage stands silent. She came back. Not sure why. Chasings ghosts.  Chasing nightmares. Her old room is no more. Large part of the house collapsed because of the fire. A worker left a welding tool on, the paper said. The fire spread and exploded a gas pipe. The truth was right under feet yet out of reach. If there really was a hidden room the entrance was buried under two stories of stone, concrete and wood. Nobody could reach it. <br/>Her life here was just a memory. All evidence of it erased. People she knew gone. They took her to an all-girl collage. She was the only one from the orphanage there. Where did they take the others, she wasn’t sure. No way to reach them. No way to know if they were even alive. <br/>It was hot summers day. Her collage friends waited outside in a car. Well, she supposed they were not really friends, just people she could use. Knowing the truth was the only thing that mattered. She wasn’t even sure why anymore. It was the only thing she had. The only thing that defined who she was. A nightmare. A moment of pure fear and dread. Of death and loss.  <br/>She had seen that man again. Not in person. In the newspaper. An article about Umbrella. She did all she could to learn more about him. He had all the answers. He knew what really happened. She needed to get close to him. Spencer. It was the only way. </p><p> </p><p>William was saying something. But the man next to him didn’t really listen. Something caught his eye. Across the glass door of the lounge he could see two people. One he knew. The other was woman he had never seen before. <br/>The old man was wearing a suit and leaning on cane. Next to him was a young woman with short blond hair neatly slicked back? Her white suit contrasting with the black one of the old man. Files clutched to her chest tightly. She turns as if sensing his gaze. The old man seems to notice. He grabs her by the wrist and pulls her. She stumbles. Bows her head. Follows. <br/>William has caught on by now that he wasn’t listening. <br/>“What’s got you so occupied?” <br/>“It seems we got a new staff member. Have you hear anything?” <br/>William glances at the hall. <br/>“Her? “ <br/>“Yes.” <br/>“That’s Lord Spencer’s little ward. Or so the rumor goes. He took some girl in. Never had any kids of his own.  But like I said it’s just rumors.” <br/>“Well, I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.” </p><p>He sees her again two days later. Spencer calls for him. A new job. He enters the office. Soon after the same woman walks in. she hand some documents to Spencer. He notices how he is looking at her. <br/>“This is Dr. Alber Wesker. “He introduces him to the woman. <br/>The woman lifts her head suddenly and looks at him. Surprised? Scared? He can’t really tell. <br/>“This is Alex.” He says. <br/>No titles, no last name. Juts Alex. She shakes his hand. Smiles.<br/>“Leave us. We have important business to discuss.  “<br/>And she is gone.</p><p>Later that week there is brief meeting. New projects. Progress made on the old ones. A brief mention of a new member joining the intelligence division. No name. No formal introduction to the others. No welcoming party. It’s only when he looks at the official records that he knows it’s her. Alex W. No other information. Just the name. He was lucky enough to know her face. Not even a picture in the file.  By the end of the week everyone is talking about this new staff no one has seen or even know the name of.  William jokes about them being so low on staff they hired a ghost. He hasn’t seen her since.  It’s only when a report comes in signed by her that he knows she’s still here.  </p><p> </p><p>She knows there is something more to it. She isn’t to say what her last name is. His name the same as hers. But she never had any family. Or perhaps they never told her. She looks trough the files. No information about parents or siblings.  He was born the same year as her. She had to know what it all really meant. To her surprise He told her truth. But Albert cannot know. He must never know. <br/>“I knew you were capable. Since that day you managed to find the laboratory in the orphanage. “Spencer laughs<br/>Alex feels the floor beneath vanish. She feels like sinking into the abyss. It was real. The nightmare was real. <br/>“To be honest I didn’t expect those who ranked so low on the list to be this capable. He was the last one. Nr. 13. You were in 12th place. But now I would say you should have been last. He is by far your superior. He is perfect. “<br/>There were thirteen of them. So few. Out of the hundreds that used to fill the orphanage halls. <br/>“Who were the others?” she asks. <br/>“You haven’t earned the right to know that. “ He says. <br/>She wants to know. Who else made it out of that place alive? Did she know any of them? <br/>He puts her on a new project. Secret. From everyone else, even in Umbrella. Something he is personally working on. She dreads but puts on a smile. She doesn’t want to spend all her days with this cruel old man. He doesn’t give her a choice. If she proves herself she can gain access to what she want to know. </p><p> </p><p>William grins. <br/>“I’ve heard the old man will be having a house warming party.  Plan on going?” <br/>“Naturally.” He says. <br/>William says something else but he isn’t listening anymore.<br/>He sees a white figure drift across the room. She enters the lounge. Walks across. Doesn’t stay. Leaves thought the other door. William has caught on by now. <br/>“You know she’ll probably be there.”</p><p>The mansion is huge.  Guests walk around in lavish clothing. Waiters walk among the crowd with trays of food and drink. Little do they know, about the many secret passages and hidden laboratories beneath the luxury and décor of the mansion. The thought makes him smile. <br/>William is there with Annette. He walks past them. Underneath dark lenses his eyes are searching. Among the beautiful woman in luxurious dresses and men designer jackets. There is no sign of her. The woman has made him feel drawn to her. He doesn’t understand why. He wants to understand. He is certain he had never met her before. Yet she feels familiar. If she is just another staff member, why is there much mystery to everything surrounding her? <br/>He finds her away from the all guests and the music. On a stone bench outside on the balcony. A book in her lap. There is a smile on her lips. She doesn’t see him. Lost in the book. He moves closer, casting a shadow on the pages. She immediately looks up. There is that look of surprise in her eyes. <br/>“Dr. Wesker?” <br/>“Albert will do. “<br/>“Did you need me for something?” <br/>“Actually, I was wondering if you would be interested in a dance.” A lie, something he made up on the spot. <br/>The look of surprise on her face again. She puts the book down on the bench. Gets up. Her dress is a mix of sliver and white. Feathers and crystals along the edge, covering her chest, going over one shoulder. White gloves cover arms to the elbows. <br/>“I would.” She says. <br/>He glances at the cover of the book. <br/>“Kafka?” <br/>She gives a little guilty smile. <br/>“Work has kept me busy. More than I would like. Catching up on some reading while I can. “<br/>He says nothing. <br/>“Are you a reading man, Albert?” <br/>“Can’t say that I am.” He admits. <br/>“You should give it a try. A book could be like a key to the secret chambers within the castle of oneself.” <br/>“Is that what it is to you?” <br/>She is standing close to him. Both still locked in place on the balcony. She looks away. As if checking to see that they are alone. <br/>“To me, it is an escape.” <br/>He nods. Understands. She takes his hand. Her white gloved fingers entertaining with his black leather ones. They enter the hall. Most are too distracted to notice. Her eyes dart around the room. He isn’t there. Albert puts his hand around her. She is so close to him now. A million thing she would like to tell him. A million question she would like to ask. She swallows them down. They waltz among many other couples. But to them nobody else exists.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She observes them from the control room. The group of people that got captured for the latest experiment. The project she was now part of. She observes them try and run for their lives. Looking for anything to defend with. So scared. Some try to fight. The undead that are slowly surrounding them. They don’t see the one’s coming from behind. Soon it’s all over. The group is overwhelmed. She bites her lip in annoyance. Another inconclusive test. It’s getting her nowhere. She won’t get the answers she wants like this. But it doesn’t matter. She leaves the control room taking the data. Another report to write.<br/>It's night. But in the underground laboratory it hardly matters. She works away on the report. All the staff had already gone home hour ago. Nobody else around.  And in a few hours the day shift will begin. The others seem to have come much further along in their research. She lags behind. She isn’t used to it. It’s not her fault. The test subjects are low quality. <br/>She tries to stay awake. Focus. She needs to prove she is worthy. She needs to know the truth. Another page. She just wants to sleep. Data analysis needs interpretation before the report can be filed. Then there is still her normal work she does for intelligence. She forces her mind to focus on the charts. Something smells like coffee. She notices the white ceramic cup on the desk beside her. It wasn’t there before. She looks up. Sees him. He gives her a half smile. <br/>“Thank you.” She says.<br/>“I didn’t expect anyone to be here this late.” Albert sits across from her.<br/>“Just some reports I need to finish for tomorrow.” <br/>It has been two weeks since the party. It feels like a dream. Something that didn’t really happen. The next day they were back to testing and filling reports. Their duties keeping them out of each other’s way.  But for that one moment they danced like in a fairytale. Then Spencer came for his speech.  And the fairytale was over. <br/>Albert observes her for a while. She holds the cup with both hands bringing it to her lips. The lights are dim but he can see as clear as day. The technology in the glasses. A shadow of a bruise on her wrist, just barely exposed when her hand rises. She closes her eyes takes a sip. Savors it. Her face looks so young, almost childlike. He wonder how old she is. He opens his laptop, works, while casting glances at her. Occasionally taking sips of his own coffee. They work like this, in silence, for hours. </p><p> He is there presenting his own report to Spencer when she enters. They greet each other. She is formal, like before. Not like when the of them are alone. Spencer flips though her report. <br/>“Pathetic.”  He tosses it to the floor.  The papers scatter. <br/>She goes to pick them up. He knows he shouldn’t interfere. <br/>“I expect more from you.” <br/>“But the test subjects were…” <br/>Before she can finish, the cane strikes her wrist. The papers scatter again. <br/>“I want results not excuses. If you have time to make up excuses you have time to get results.” <br/>Spencer turns to the door. <br/>“Come, Dr. Wesker.” <br/>He follows. Gives a sideways glance back to the room. Alex is still on the floor among the scattered papers. The door closes. <br/>There is blood running down her fingers. The metal part of the cane had hit her. She doesn’t notice it. Painted nails dig into the paper making holes. Tears stream down her face no matter how hard she tries to stop them. It is futile. Meaningless. All of it. She feels trapped. She though that Umbrella, that Spencer was a lead. She begins to realize that it was a cage. And she had flown in of her own will. She sought out the cage and shut herself in it. What naïve and foolish bird she had been.  <br/>Albert walks down the hall. Spencer At his side. <br/>“Must you be so hard on her?” he wonders<br/>The old man stops. <br/>“It is for her own good, you see. It is necessary to drive out the idea that anything less than perfection is acceptable. To push her to achieve her full potential.” <br/>“I understand.” He doesn’t, but one day he will. </p><p>Another night another test. It seems that the new test subjects are just as useless as the other ones. Another looming failure. Another sleepless night on a report that nobody will even read. She grips the edges of console. Rage shakes her. Knuckles turning white. She did not come this far to fail. At best she will be cast out at worst she will be tossed down there with the test subjects. It would not surprise her if the old man did it. She knew too much. Getting out alive didn’t seem like an option anymore. So this cage to also be her grave. She wanted to laugh and she wanted to cry. <br/>In her distraction the group managed to escape the undead and head towards the open door. She noticed them. Running towards the doors. <br/>“There is an infinite amount of hope but not for you.” She triggered the lock down. <br/>One of them tried to crawl under the metal door before it went down all the way only to get stuck and crushed. The others were beginning to panic. She took manual control of one of the undead. Seeing thought the creature’s eyes. The cameras implanted in it. The control mechanism that allowed it to be manipulated like a puppet. She never felt the need to do it. These tests were horrific enough. People getting killed. But this time she didn’t care. She stopped carring. She had to. How else would one do this? <br/>The creature ran after a survivor. It was as if she was chasing the woman herself. There was a rush though her body. Excitement. And when the woman turned to look back the hands grabbing on to her face. <br/>“Aren’t our eyes made to be torn out.” The undead fingers sink into the woman’s eyes. <br/>“And hearts for the same purpose.” The teeth tear at her chest. Ripping the fabric, exposing flesh. Piercing skin, to the pulsing muscle inside until it finally stops. <br/>Her body trembles, but not with rage anymore. But with a feeling of ecstasy in her blood. A violent burst of pleasure. She had killed for the first time. She closes her eyes, savors it. Smiles a predatory smile. If she must suffer. She will not do so alone. <br/>The survivors are terrified now. They scatter to all directions. The undead await with outstretched arms. One by one they fall. They stop fighting back. Cornered. Dead end. Undead coming into the alley. This time at least it wasn’t a complete failure. </p><p>She collapses to her knees. The water from the shower has not turned warm yet. Her body shakes. Bruised arms move to cover her mouth. The image is burned into her mind. The blood, the gurgling scream of the woman. She gags violently but her body is empty.  Relief does not come. The feeling of guilt is not something one could rid themselves of so easily. The water turns warm but all she can feel is cold. <br/>Even after the warm shower, she drags herself to bed shivering. The few hours of sleep are an endless nightmare. Then she is back in the underground.  She passes Albert in the hall. Wonders if he has ever killed. If he would accept someone like her. <br/>That night she does it again. Imagining it is Spencer’s face clutched in her hands. That it his eyes she squashing under her fingers. His heart she tearing from his chest. It will never happen. Even if she tried. She would be dead before she could reach him. But she can dream. The rush of power she holds over one’s life. The satisfaction when they run in fear. The bliss of murder. The relief. Breaking free from all conventions. From her own weakness and humanity. Breaking this taboo. The ecstasy that rushes though her blood as the rage she had been suppressing is set free. As it deafening roar dies and is replaced with silence. Heavy breaths, a racing hear, a growing wetness between her legs. Her face burns. She feels alive. Powerful. Outside the armored door she is weak, replaceable. Trapped.  A failure. But here she is unstoppable.<br/>But when the high was gone their screams echoed in her ears. It didn’t make her sick like it did first time but the water flowing down her body looked red in the dim light. Just for a moment. There was blood on her hands now. Looking in the mirror. Physicaly there was no difference.  Yet something had changed. <br/>“It’s all your fault.” Hand in her hair, half covering her face as she tosses and turns. “Look what you made me do. You cruel, stupid old man.” </p><p>“Sleep is the most innocent creature there is and a sleepless man<br/>the most guilty.”- Kafka</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They rarely get so be around each other without the presence of others. So he made it a habit of observing her. The way she smiles when she’s lost in one of her books. The way she walks avoiding the gazes of others. Silent, reserved. Shy? He knows she isn’t. The way she eats chocolate. Putting a piece in her mouth, letting it melt, rolling her tongue over it. Completely oblivious to the world around her, eyes glued to the book. Slowly lifting her finger and licking of the remainder of the chocolate before flipping the page. He feels his face grow hot. She seems to notice him looking at her. Her look is questioning. Innocent. <br/>“Is something wrong?” <br/>“No.” He shakes his head, goes back to work. <br/>Those nights spent working in offices or the lounge when they could be alone were something both looked forward to. <br/>He had heard the rumors, at this point everyone did. The quiet, reserved girl that turned into a sadistic monster when the testing room doors were shut. William had heard it from his wife, Annette, who was apparently on the same secret project as Alex. He knew there were new projects. He had not been told the details yet. Everyone had been working on something personal. What he didn’t know was that she was part of it. That certainly explained why she was around so rarely. The testing location was somewhere in the city.  It almost made him laugh hearing it. How wonderfully cruel she could be. He wished he could see it. </p><p>She is aware of it. The way they look at her when she walks past. The whispers behind her back. Her cruel little pleasure had not gone unnoticed. But it doesn’t matter. Not really. She has found her footing after so many failures. Her own project, a clever little thing to excuse all the cruelty, a virus that spreads based on fear. The more they fear the faster it will consume them and spread. So, she has to be cruel, is what she says. It’s the only way to know if it will work. A justification. An excuse. It’s not like she really wants to be, she says. A lie. But in the end even she begins to believe it. That it’s justified. That it’s the only way. She is in the right. <br/>Not every test is a success. Not all results are what she hoped them to be but she doesn’t care. She knows she is on the path of proving herself, getting close to what she wants to know. But things were never made to be this easy. She should have expected it. Of course she would the only one given a partner. She should have expected the old man to find a way to rob her of the enjoyment she got. <br/>His name was Daniel. And he stayed at her side thought the nights of testing. She hated him. He didn’t seem to pick up on it. Having someone observe her while she was testing, it was unusual. She had to keep herself in check. And the constant attempts at flirting. She wished she could throw him the pit with the test subjects and the zombies and tear him to shreds herself. But instead she smiled, and answered politely, explaining her research and the process.  <br/>Spencer had her enrolled into some school. Time to get a doctorate, he said. She supposed it was a sign that she proving her worth. Or perhaps because she was the only one without one. Aside from Daniel, who was a lowly thug.  He did have intelligence, but not like the rest of them.  Unfortunately it mean even less sleep for her. And more time with Daniel, who despite her insisting she was fine, decided to drive her everywhere. Perhaps he was ordered. Yet, he acted as if was of his own will. <br/>“Still, what is strange.” He said in the annoying French accent. “How everyone calls you Alex.” <br/>He had been pestering her for the majority of the ride. <br/>“That is my name. What else should they call me?” she isn’t looking at him. <br/>“You know what I mean.” <br/>They stop at the university.  She hurries to get out. <br/>“Oh, and Lord Spencer told me to take over testing for you. Since you will be busy with your studies.” <br/>Alex felt her blood boil in rage. This man taking over her research felt like a slap to the face. <br/>“Fine” she groaned” You will the data and reports to me. I will check them and hand them in myself.” She said shutting the car door. <br/>“Oui, doctor” he says before taking off. <br/>Was Spencer that desperate to sabotage her? To deny her the truth. She supposed she could always try to hack her way into the secret files and learn it that way. But what would happen then? Would he kill her? Experiment on her? In any case her life would be over. She was certain of it. And she was determined to keep on living. <br/>Class. Her work for intelligence. The work on her own project, as often as she can be present herself and do the testing. Weeks all blur together. It is exhausting. It first she is determined not let Daniel interfere. It’s taking a toll on her. Two hours of sleep. Not even worth the hour trip home. But at least she can spend some time with him. Albert. She knows he is doing work for Spencer, secret work he can’t talk about. There are so many thing they can’t talk about. But they don’t need to. Somehow just being close is enough. He is the same as her. He might not have the memories of the orphanage, but was there somewhere in the crowd of boys. It’s enough. When she wakes up in the lounge, book in her lap, seeing him there. She feels embarrassed. Then she feels the blanket move as she straightens herself. He gives her a half smile. She smiles back. </p><p> </p><p>The rain pours without stopping. He prepares to leave for the day. There is a figure standing in the lobby. Arms crossed on her chest. Eyes gazing the rivers pouring down the window. He approaches. She turns. <br/>“Albert” she smiles. <br/>“Alex” he returns the smile. “Here for another night of work?” <br/>“Actually I’m going home for a change. If my ride ever gets here. He’s an hour late.”  She sighs. <br/>“I could give you a ride.” He says. <br/>“If it’s not too much trouble.” <br/>“None at all. If I recall, my place is closer. Why not spend the night?” <br/>She seems to be thinking about the suggestion. <br/>“Well. It would be convenient. If you really don’t mind.” <br/>“ I don’t.” <br/>She is aware of the hidden intentions.  A part of her didn’t expect that from him. A part of her feels disappointed. In the end he is just like all other men. But she can’t hold that against him. <br/>He opens the door for her. She gets in. the car is new. Black. Sleek. Smells like leather inside. She says nothing. Listens to the slow jazz on the radio. It is a pleasant thing. Rides with Daniel were rarely quiet. They park in the underground garage. He opens the door for her again.  They take the elevator. <br/>“If you don’t mind me asking, who was your ride?” <br/>“Fabron.” She says it like it was a bad word. <br/>He had heard the rumors about them. How they work together so much. How they more than just working together. This strange man that Spencer hired out of nowhere.<br/>They enter the apartment. It is large. Modern. Open. The kitchen and the living room joined into one spacious room. She takes it in with appreciation. <br/>“It’s absolutely lovely.” She says, without flattery and lies. <br/>“Thank you.”  <br/>He takes of his jacket. She keeps hers on. Steps out of the shoes onto the soft carper. <br/>“Care to join me for a nightcap?” he takes a bottle of wine and two glasses from the shelf. <br/>“I’d be glad to.” She sits on the large black leather sofa. <br/>It faces the large glass windows that overlook the city. He pours the wine. Sits down next to her. This the closest they have been since the dance.<br/>“The view is gorgeous” she takes a sip. <br/>“It gets old after a while” he says looking at the city lights. <br/>His dark glasses reflect the lights. <br/>“I can see how it would” she says. <br/>“Does Fabron give you rides often?” he asks. <br/>“As much as I wish he didn’t, he does.” <br/>“Well then I’ m going to have to teach him some manners.” <br/>She tries to suppress a laugh. <br/>“You believe them, don’t you?” <br/>He looks at her puzzled. <br/>“The rumors. There is nothing between me and him.” she says. <br/>“Alex...” <br/>She puts a finger to his lips. <br/>“Please. I know you didn’t ask me to stay over just to talk.”<br/>She moves jacket down slowly, exposing her shoulders. He moves closer. Embracing her from behind. Planting kisses on her neck. Arms sliding up the silky material of her top. Stopping at her breasts. How soft they feel in his hands. She sighs. He kisses her shoulder. Hands moving the jacket lower until it off. She shivers in the cool air. Her back is exposed down to the middle by the top. Two dark long bruises mark it. <br/>“Spencer did this.” He says it as if stating a fact, but there is something else in his voice.<br/>She laughs. The mere mention of him. and the thought of what they are about to do.<br/>“The old man would have an aneurism if he saw us now. You know, he think of you as his son. I guess in a way that makes us siblings “there is a sinister smile on her lips.  <br/>She turns, returning his embrace. Pressing herself against him. She kisses him. She doesn’t really care if he’s good. For him she would pretend, and praise him, and say he was the best.  She would let him use her. She knew she was supposed to be jealous of him, to hate him, want to surpass him. The old man made it clear who his favorite was. But it just so happened that he was also her favorite. <br/>He returns her kiss. She moves her hands to undo his shirt. Fingers touching bare skin. She pushes him down on the leather of the sofa. Straddles him. Breaks away from the kiss. Snatches his glasses away. He looks surprised. Then he smiles. Pushes her down on her back. Lifts up her top. She is wearing nothing underneath. He kisses up her stomach to her breasts. Hand caressing her sides, moving up her back. Hot mouth enveloping her breast. Her hands move to his hair.  He pulls away. Takes her in. Eyes closed, mouth open slightly. She opens one eye. Questioning why he stopped. He grins and moves to her other breast. She moans a little. Biting her lip. <br/>His hands move to her hips. Undoing her pants. She moves to help him. He is somewhat surprised by how eager she is. She lays there before him in nothing but her black lacey underwear. Breath fast, eyes half closed, a sinful smile on her red lips. Her legs wrap around his waist, pulls him down on her. Hands caressing his chest, moving down to his hips, undoing the belt. He stops her. Pins her hands above her head. <br/>“So eager.” He chuckles. <br/>Her face flushes a deeper shade of red. <br/>“It’s been a long time.” she breathes, now a little more self-aware.  <br/>He touches her thought the fabric. She already quite wet. He believes her. Takes of his clothes. He takes off her under wear.  She spreads her legs for him, shameless. He gets into position. Enters her. She wraps her legs around him. Sets the pace. Fast and hard, he matches her. She comes. He follows. <br/>He was actually not bad. But she needed more. It was too short to be an escape. Too little to make her feel free. It did make that feeling she felt whenever he was around grow. That fondness for him that had since the party. But there was another feeling flowing restlessly inside her. The desire to cause pain, to shed blood, to release her frustrations with everything bad in her life onto someone. But not him. She could not do that to him. He was the only good thing in this cage of misery she had trapped herself in. <br/>He kisses her again. She returns it with a passion even fiercer. Pushes herself up. Flips him on his back. He didn’t see it coming. <br/>“Round two.” She says pulling from the kiss. <br/>She isn’t the quiet, shy girl she pretends to be. She isn’t the cruel woman that people claim her to be either. He looks at her, studies her. She gets of him.  Hands touching him.  He is sensitive, each touch is sending waves of both pain and pleasure. But it passes soon. He smirks at her. She didn’t seem to notice yet. <br/>“You’ll find that I don’t tire easily, dear heart” he says. <br/>She feels him grow fully hard again. Smiles a smile that is teeth and sinful desire. Descends on him. He holds her hips, adjusts so she is in his lap.  He moves matching her. Mouth sucking on her small round breast. Another orgasm hits, more intense than the last. She cries out, unrestrained. Tears welling up in her eyes. The feeling of pleasant numbness settles in her bones. She rest her head on his shoulder. He puts his arms around her.  A moment passes of blissful silence. The gnawing feelings returns albeit weaker this time. <br/>“Ready to go again?” she whispers questioningly. <br/>He burst into laughter. She looks at him puzzled.  He picks her in his arms. Heads to the bedroom. Places her on the bed. It’s different this time, gentle, almost loving. She falls asleep next to him. <br/>Morning comes and she feels the light on her face but her don’t want to open. It’s warm. It smells nice. His scent. She hears somebody else move and the memories of last night surface. She is awake now. Face burning red. She turns her back to him. Suddenly afraid. She had never done this with someone who was close to her. Someone who would be around after. It was always someone who would be gone. Someone she didn’t care for. Some poor boy she left broken and bruised and scared. Somebody who would never go near her again. <br/>He gets up. She hears the shower running. He leaves the room. She gets out of bed, showers. Her clothes are on the bed, not where she left them last night.  She dresses. Exits the room. He greets her with a cup of coffee and a smile, same one he always does. And she feels that this time she doesn’t need to be afraid.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She sits in her room. It’s been a day. She hasn’t left. Didn’t even leave her bed. Since the night on the beach she didn’t recall much. Stuart led her back. She was vaguely aware of it. Now he was here again. <br/>“Master Alex, you have been summoned to return.” <br/>She doesn’t want to go. Doesn’t want to hear what the old man wants to say. Doesn’t have a choice.  Goes to his castle. <br/>He makes her write a report on his death. Insult to injury. She should have suspected as much. She wants to scream at him, to tell him how much he had meant to her. That this stupid, cruel old man would never understand her grief, her anger, how powerless she felt. <br/>“Albert was the true success of the project. “<br/>She couldn’t argue with that. <br/>“But there is still  hope. “ <br/>“You will follow on my suggestion?” it comes as a surprise. <br/>“Of reselecting candidates from the failed ones? You were always the brightest one. I expected more from you. “ <br/>She feels arms grab her from behind. Somebody jams a needle into her neck. She falls to her knees. Cannot breath. Everything is staring to go dark. When she wakes up she is in a hospital bed. Spencer comes to see her. <br/>“What did you do to me?” <br/>“You should feel honored. You have proven worthy of being part of the Project. I had you infected with the Progenitor virus. You have earned it. The remaining others will be receiving it as well. “ <br/>She remembers Yuki’s face. Black pouring out her eyes. The greyish skin of the bodies in that room. It makes her feel sick. She knows it is a weaker strand of the virus. But it still feels more like a death sentence than a privilege. </p><p> </p><p>She looks over the list. Spencer had allowed her to know more about the project. At first she been happy. Finally she had proven herself. He even made her responsible for overseeing the project. Monitoring those still alive. Gathering information on them.<br/>01. William (Redacted)-William Wesker ( 1960- 1980)<br/>02. Miles (Redacted) - Miles Wesker ( 1960 – 1979)<br/>03. Marco (Redacted)- Marco Wesker ( 1960- 1985)<br/>04. Laura (Redacted)- Laura Wesker (1960- 1983)<br/>05 Ken (Redacted)- Ken Wesker ( 1960- 1978)<br/>06 Jonah (Redacted) –Jonah Wesker (1960- 1985)<br/>07. Irma (Redacted)- Irma Wesker ( 1960- 1981)<br/>08. 祐 (Redacted)- Hiro Wesker ( 1960)<br/>09 Hans (Redacted)- Hans Wesker ( 1960)<br/>10. Felicia (Redacted)- Felicia Wesker ( 1960)<br/>11. Derek  (Redacted) – Derek Wesker ( 1960)<br/>12. Albert (Redacted)- Albert Wesker (1960 )<br/>13. Александра (Redacted)- Alex Wesker ( 1960)</p><p>No last names. No addresses or countries. Nothing to trace them back.  She does notice a few that stand out, her own included. Something that implies a nationality. Russia. She never would have guessed. <br/>So many already gone. Some deaths had nothing to do with the virus they had been infected with. A car crash. A fire. She wondered if she would recognize the remaining ones if she saw them. Strangely only she and Albert ended up working for Umbrella. The others never caught on. Hiro was working for the European branch. But no one else. Business men, doctors, lawyers. Jonah became a firefighter. Died saving someone. They all ranked much higher at the time of the selection, than her and Albert. Yet, ended up being completely average.<br/>Now she looks at it. She is the only one left. The remaining ones,  got infected after his death in the mansion. Now all dead as well. From the pain she felt it seemed she would be joining them.  They ran all the tests. The diagnosis was clear. Her immune system had reacted to the virus. But instead of attacking it, was attacking her body.  <br/>“I’m dying. You have to do something” She pleaded with Spencer. <br/>The old man looked at her curiously. <br/>“No. This will be a good motivation for you. You will make me immortal and in that you will find your salvation. I will become the god of the new world and you will be allowed to serve me by my side forever.” <br/>She wanted to laugh, but cry at the same time. But of course he was serious. She wasn’t sure how much she could do, feeling like it was going to end soon. But her body did not die. It would be a slow death. A long suffering that got gradually worse and worse. She had no real reason to comply with Spencer. Not anymore. And yet to her own surprise she did. Perhaps out of habit. <br/>The news of his death had broken her spirit. The virus has broken her body. There was no real reason left to live. Yet she did, simply out of habit. She had all the answers she wanted, the truth she sought. Understanding begins with a wish to die. She feels like she understands now.  She doesn’t care for the experiments anymore. Stuart has taken over. She does work in her lab, away from the others. T- Phobos, her own personal project, is a dead end. There is only so much that can be done with it. Spencer’s immortality and by essence her own, if he ever allows her to use it. She can’t trust him to.  She studies all the viruses, all the data gathered from previous experiments. <br/>Spencer has one last surprise for her. He makes her work on his own private research facility. Some far away tropical island. Create the ultimate virus from all the previous ones. See which one comes out on top on all the others. If it was meant as helpful, she doesn’t know. So she works. Pretends around the others. At night, alone she mourns his loss. Some days are worse. When she can’t get out of bed. The medicine doesn’t help much. It’s not meant for something like this. Her case is too abnormal. Ordinary treatments can only do so much. After all, even the standard cases still don’t have a cure.  <br/> Months, pass. She sees it. How futile it all is. Viruses make monsters, viruses kill people. Something like that cannot create immortality. She confronts him about it. Tries to tell him he is delusional. He smiles at her anger and shows her an image of someone she knows all too well. <br/>“When was this taken?” <br/>“It was taken in the Russia facility. Two weeks ago. “He says. “ He has transcended humanity with the help of a virus. You will do the same for me.” <br/>She nods. Shocked. Happy. Scared. <br/>“I feel like I made a mistake with him.” the old man says. “I should have been harder on him.” <br/>He laughs. <br/>“He has provided the evidence against Umbrella. It is the end. I spoiled him too much. I’m glad I didn’t make that mistake with you.” <br/>She cares not about the old man. All that matters is that he is alive. She leaves the island soon after Spencer does. Takes what she can. Goes back to her work. Immortality if it can be achieved will not come from a virus. And it will not be for Spencer. But for her and Albert to share.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He was alive. It was all she needed to know.  Yet she wondered why he didn’t look for her. Did he think she died in the explosion that night? In the outbreak before that? She wanted so desperately to reach out. To say, I am here. But she held back. What if he knew? What if he simply didn’t care? </p><p>The sum of Umbrella in one disk. He held it in his hand. All their data from the laboratories in Raccoon. The server backups. All of it. It would take time to extract all the secrets. But then he only really needed the T-virus data and the virus William had been working on. At least that’s how it was the time. He scattered the papers. Drawers tossed on the floor. The room in chaos. He needed to find it. Spencer said it was all lost with Raccoon. But that was not true. If the research was there, then it had to be on the disk. It had to be somewhere.<br/> He found it in an old suitcase. Clutched in hands was a report. Sighed below Alex W. She knew. Had she known the whole time? Yet, she said nothing. He wondered if she died in the city. He could see her, smiling at him. Yet her eyes always had that look of sadness to them. He wanted to say goodbye but he couldn’t find her. He thought about asking her to leave with him. Perhaps she was out of the city when the outbreak happened. Perhaps she was still alive. Spencer would have known, but he had killed the old man.  It is useless to think about it, he tells himself. And yet. When he sees the list he can’t stop himself.  No. 13- Alex Wesker. Alex. Dr. Alex. Only ever Alex. W? Could be anything :Walker, Wright, Wagner.  Date of birth 1960. Same year as all of them. Same year as him. Same as her. No date of death. It has to be. Yet, it couldn’t possibly be.  No one updated the files since the destruction of the city in 1998. It meant nothing.<br/>Excella looks at the state of the room. She is about to say something. He turns. Eyes flaring red behind the dark glass. Menacing. He walks past her. <br/>“Send someone to clean it up.” <br/>“Where are you going?” <br/>“I have business to attend to.” <br/>He leaves before she can question him further. He needs to know. Yet, his mind says she could not possibly be alive after all this time. Something inside wanted her to be. She had talent. With her skills she could have easily found work in any other company. Yet he had not heard of her. Using a different name? But he would have seen her face. There were only so many people in the world who knew the secrets of Umbrella and were still alive. Surely she would have tried to sell what she knew. And yet, he was the only one. <br/>Spencer might be dead but he can still give some answers. He goes back to that place. Looks into Spence’s data. Most if it is gone. Or perhaps he never kept it all in one place. But there is something inside the computer that proves valuable. After the man’s death there was a bank transfer from his account. Most of what he owned. He sees previous transfers made to the same account. Several others too. A lead. Getting someone to investigate who owns the bank accounts he stops at the top of the list. Alex Wesker. <br/>“So she is alive.” He says, almost in disbelief. <br/>Somehow he doesn’t doubt that it’s the same woman.  But finding her is a challenge all in its own. <br/>He had the disk for years, yet never really looked at what it contained. Never cared to. And yet it seems to hold all the answers. He searches for documents with her name. There are countless. One stands out. A request for permission of establishing a private research facility. Approved by Spencer in 1995.  The exact location is not mentioned but it is somewhere in the Baltic region.  <br/> It is a desolate place. Dark. The grey sea is stormy. Cold wind blows. The abandoned old houses stand in the light of a single lamp. Broken wooden fence. No people. And yet there is power.  Further away, something moves. Screams. A cage full of creatures that are not human.  He approaches the tower. It seems to be more recently built than the houses. </p><p>She sees him on the screen. Her heart leaps with joy and fear. How did he find this place? Was he here to kill her? He had killed Spencer. She knew. It would not have surprised her if the old man gave her away. Sent him after her as some twisted punishment for failing to give him immortality. <br/>The door opens before him.  Inside of the ugly concrete structure is actually well decorated. He stops at the painting. All doubt gone.  He feels a presence in the room. Turns. She smiles.<br/>“You are Alex Wesker.” <br/>“I am.” <br/>“You knew.” <br/>“I did. It was the whole reason I joined Umbrella. To learn the truth.” <br/>He looks at her. Questions. <br/>“You don’t remember it. Memory alteration was part of the process.” She says.” The Orphanage. There were so many of us. Now it’s just you and me.” <br/>He did not remember. <br/>“How do you remember?” <br/>“Because was there. In that secret room. That night. Because I saw them take away the bodies at night. They would have killed me. But I happened to be on the list of those chosen for the second phase. Because I never stopped wondering why so many of us had to die. I knew Spencer had the answers. But he wouldn’t give them to me unless I proved myself. I had to keep quiet. It was part of the test.” She feels her breath grow short. <br/>She coughs. The room spins. <br/>“Alex” he places a hand on her back. Steadies her. <br/>“I’m dying, Albert. “ She says. <br/>He just shakes his head. Walks her to the sofa. <br/>“After everyone thought you died, the project was failing. Spencer had me infected with the virus. But it didn’t work. It didn’t make me strong. My immune system reacted but instead of destroying or adapting the virus like it should, it began destroying everything else. “she tries to catch her breath. <br/>He shakes his head again. <br/>“We can find a cure.” <br/>“There is no cure.” She says.” I’ve tried everything. I’ve infected myself with the T-photos, hoping that the regenerative properties of the T- virus would help. It slowed it down. But didn’t stop it. My cells regenerate only be destroyed again.” <br/>“I can make a serum...” <br/>She shakes her head. <br/>“There is an infinite amount of hope in the universe but not for us.” <br/>He knows she is right. <br/>He carries her to her room. Places her on the bed. She pulls him down for a kiss. Still as beautiful as he remembered. Still as eager. He undresses her. She isn’t that skinny girl he remembers. Her breast are fuller. Hips more rounded. She feels him. Hands sliding under his shirt. He is more muscular than before. Taller too. More like the Tyrant he so admired. His height is not the only thing that’s bigger. He notices her smirk at him. Her hand sliding down between his legs. <br/>“Eager as always.” He laughs. <br/>And it feels like nothing changed. Like the years have not passed and it was only yesterday that they were together. <br/>“But of course. It’s been too long.” She wraps herself around him. Arms around his neck, legs around his waist. <br/>“Too long.” He realizes. <br/>They kiss again. She moans, rocks against him impatiently. <br/>“This might hurt.” <br/>“I’m not afraid of pain.” <br/>He is being gentle. Carefull not to break her with his strength. She snatches the glasses, looks him in the eyes. <br/>“You don’t have to be gentle with me.” <br/>Her words make him shudder. He knows she means it. He thrusts into her full force. Her mouth is open but she doesn’t make a sound. He waits for her to react. She opens her eyes, a couple of tears roll down. He hesitates. <br/>“Did I tell you to stop?” he voice is breathless.<br/>He shakes his head. Continues. She moans and gasps, it could be from pain, and it could be from pleasure. He can’t tell, he is close. It’s been so long. He buries his face in her neck. Comes. Feels her gasp. He kisses her neck, down to her shoulder, feels her rapid breathing.  Moves to pull away from her. She reaches for him. <br/>“Don’t” <br/>It’s too late. Looking over her he can see it. The blood spilling on the sheets. <br/>“It will heal” she says. <br/>He touches her face. Kisses her again. On the lips. Down her neck. Her breast. Doesn’t stop. He hold her thighs to keel her steady. Plants kisses on them. Licks between her folds. She tastes like blood and him. He doesn’t stop. She tenses. Cries out. He can feel her getting close. He can feel the blood disappear. The familiar taste of her is coming out. He savors it. She is gripping the sheets violently. Hips trying to move against him in desperation. He loves seeing her like this. He would love to watch her, to keep her wanting but there are only so much hours left in the night. He moves to finish her. Feels her quake and shiver as she comes. A pure blissful expression on her face.  <br/>They lay together in silence. He wonders if she is asleep. Resting his head on her chest, feeling her heart beat calmly.   Then she speaks. <br/>“ I want you to kill me” it’s only a whisper but he hears it. <br/>He leans on his arms to look at her. The expression on her face is one of pure despair. <br/>“I’m so tired. Please. I will die soon anyways. I don’t want to wait for the pain to become too much. I don’t want to suffer anymore.” Tears well up in her eyes, but don’t fall. <br/>He bows his head. Avoids her gaze. <br/>“Albert, please.” Her voice is weak, pleading. <br/>He looks at her, eyes burning red. His hand closing around her neck. He grips her. She closes her eyes. An expression of peacefulness. The tears roll down her cheeks. He let’s go. Turns away. Dresses. Leaves in a flash. <br/>She opens her eyes to the empty darkness of her room. Feels his grip on her skin. Buries her face in her hands and weeps.  <br/>In the morning she dresses. The black and purple bruise on her neck. He has left her. He did not see her as worth killing. She looks at her own reflection and wants to smash it to a thousand pieces. To smash her the weakness out of her body. But instead she just buries her head in her hands and cries. He left her. Left her to suffer. Left her to wither away and die. Yet he killed the old man. He did not see her as worth saving.</p><p>Uroboros is nearly complete. His plan is nearly complete. His plan has changed. The world. Becoming god. It was always an unattainable dream. To advance humanity. That was Spencer’s dream. Rule over the new human race as a god, with his angels doing his biding. Spencer was no god and he was no angel. A demon? Perhaps. But in the end just a man. A dying man. <br/>“I’m dying, Albert” her words played in his head. <br/>“That makes two of us.” He says to empty space. <br/>The viruses in his body were making him strong. The Progenitor kept them in check, like a sheep dog, biting at their legs to keep them from wandering off. But it was burning out. He would lose his strength first and then the viruses would start to take over. The serum helped. But he knew it will not save him forever. He was doomed. Sooner or later he would end up like all others. A monster. A mindless creature. He would not suffer such a fate. He refused to.  He will die, but it will be on his own terms. And if he can’t have the world, then nobody will. After all, who needs a world without her in it?</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 8 <br/>The hot sun of Africa poured down on her. She watched from the boat. Unable to set foot on the land that became his resting place. Stuart went to retrieve the research. <br/>He had returned to her after so long. And now he was gone again. She need to understand why this happened. He was a genius. He would not fall so easily. As she studied the notes, the look of utter disbelief on her face. He had to have known. Why did he not correct it? Such a simple mistake had led to his defeat. The weakness to heat. There was no way he would overlook such a flaw. So why? Did he leave it intentionally? It had to be the only explanation. He had been so proud of his creation. Rule the new world as a god with Uroboros. <br/>“But that was never what you wanted. Was it, Albert?” <br/>She knows what the world doesn’t. What they never will. It’s there in the name. Ouroboros. The snake devouring its own tail. Consuming itself. He knew that power that consumes itself had no purpose. He would never make such a thing. This was never about power. <br/>It is a story she has read many times. A curious device. An old relic from times past. One that has no place in the new world. One that is slowly breaking down because it is no longer cared for. The last remaining one, to know how it works, or how to fix it. But they cannot fix it. There is no need for it any more. Times are changing. All they can do is care for what is left of it. Uphold the old laws and fight change. Until the day it inevitably breaks and takes them along with it. <br/>“You realized it, didn’t you Albert? And yet you did not take me with you. Am I really that unworthy? I would have been glad to die.” <br/>The painting gives no answer. <br/>“I will prove my worth. Just wait. I will surpass you.”<br/>She never cared for Spencer’s approval. She never respected the old man. He was not her Commandant. The one she truly wanted to be recognized by was now gone. She knew that his legacy could not be saved. Not truly. But she would not abandon it. She will wait. She will push back.  Once they meet again she can look him the eyes and say that she succeed. That she fought. The she was loyal till the end. <br/>She focuses on the research. Perfecting his legacy. Her own experiments abandoned. Fulfill his dream and drown the world in the blackness. Meet him in hell and say, look I brought you the world.  All hopes of her own salvation abandoned. T-phobos yielded no quality results since it began developing.  She has grown bored with the torture and the screams. The violence doesn’t excite her anymore. Nothing does. <br/>She lays in bed unwilling to move. The same bed they shared that night. Stuart tries to give her reports on the experiments. She doesn’t care. The people who worshiped her. Those that are still alive. The monsters that have broken out around the island. It doesn’t matter. Her body is growing weak. She knows she will not finish her work. She feels defeated. Useless. Just a giant insect. All hope of surpassing him gone. <br/>“I wanted to give you world.” she cries “yet, I am unable to do even this much. I really am unworthy.” <br/> And then the man from Terrasave contacts her. There is a hope. A chance that it will work. Her long abandoned idea. But if it does, then she could do it. Fulfil his dream. Surpass him. A long shot of an idea but it is her only hope. <br/>She observes them. Wishes they would hurry up. She gives them directions. Interferes when they try to escape. Pushes them to see who breaks and who doesn’t. She wants it to be over as fast as possible. One by one they fail. Stuart already has the perfect one picked for her. The others are not necessary anymore. But they are so close now. She needs to wait for the girl. And then it will be over. <br/>Her plan is a long shot. Untested. Uncertain. No guaranties. She hears the elevator rise up. Soon they will be here. Soon it will all be over. She can escape. Be reborn. Continue her plan. Fulfil his dream. But what if it fails? What if the machine falls apart? What if she disappears into nothing? Not even able to see him for one last time. The thoughts plaque her. <br/>Footsteps echo on the metal stairs. <br/> “We meet at last” <br/>She turns. Faces them. Smiles. <br/>“You came all this way, just to say goodbye? Oh, I’m touched” <br/>She looks at them. The two women who managed to make it this far. Perhaps one of them would have been a better candidate. But it’s too late now.<br/>“It’s already done. I’ve conquered fear and earned the right to become a god.” <br/>The right to become god was never hers. Never his. Never anyone’s. <br/>“Come out from behind that glass, so I can choke a god” the girl retorts. <br/>Before it would have made her laugh. But she can’t lose her focus. As she paces. Preparing.  It won’t hurt much. She knows. To live hurts more. And yet she is taking her time with it. Hesitating.<br/>“All that remains is one final test. One last threshold to cross.” <br/>She speaks her determination. The doubts in her mind make noise. So she speaks. Focuses on her own words.  To silence them out.<br/>“Is she even listening to us?” the red-haired girl remarks <br/>But Alex doesn’t care. She is focused on what she must do. Nothing else matters. She faces them one last time. Her audience. They know not how it works. They cannot appreciate what is about to happen in its fullest. It matters not. She looks down at the book. Find the page. The familiar word give her comfort. <br/>“My brother’s escape was death. And soon it will be mine as well”<br/>She closes the book. Drops it. Moves closer to the two girls behind the bulletproof glass. <br/>“ I will share in his fate. And then I will surpass him” she takes out her pistol.<br/>The girls look shocked. Afraid for their own lives. How foolish. They will die soon enough, but not the way they think. The self-destruct mechanism will be activated once she is gone.<br/>“What are you trying to do?” <br/>She answers truthfully. <br/>“Escape” <br/>She puts the gun to her temple. Pulls the trigger. Falls. <br/>  Six months later a new her will awaken inside the little girl.</p>
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